My Hero
by Jeannette Hetfield
Summary: Ginny heroworshiped Harry when she was a child...and she still does, but it's different now.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling. This story is written solely because of my admiration and love for Harry.  
  
My Hero  
By Jeannette Hetfield  
  
Very few students were up at such an early hour Monday morning, but a few dotted each of the four house tables in the Great Hall. Most of the professors were already eating at the head table, talking quietly amongst themselves about the morning lessons. Sleepy voices echoed softly off the ancient stone walls as some students ate their breakfast and others finished last minute homework.  
  
Occasionally, a ghost would float by, greeting the students as they came in, except for Peeves, who chose a much more friendly approach. The squat ghost zoomed under the robes of the first years as they were about to sit down and several people toppled over the benches in surprise. Peeves cackled as he mercilessly dive-bombed the students until Professor McGonagall came charging forward with her wand aimed at his nose, but he disappeared through the enchanted ceiling that poured rain, as red sparks shot out of her wand.  
  
Ginny Weasley rolled her eyes and turned back to a picked over plate of bacon and eggs and a Potions essay Snape had assigned at the last minute on the five different uses of werewolf claws. As if she was about to traipse off into the Dark Forest to look for one just so she could make a potion to clear a painful rash. She'd rather itch!  
  
"Good morning, Ginny!" said a cheery voiced Hermione as she sat down on the opposite side, dumping her school bag onto the table.  
  
"Morning, Hermione," she said glumly.  
  
"What's the matter with you?"  
  
Ginny tapped the essay with her quill and Hermione, after glancing over the three-foot long parchment, smiled sympathetically. "I had the same essay last year."  
  
"And I'll bet it was as unjustly assigned then too," she said.  
  
Hermione nodded. "Yes, but it was highly useful information." She immediately began taking out books, parchment, ink and a quill and then rearranged them around her in an orderly fashion. Ginny, though having witnessed all this before, couldn't help but watch in fascination as her friend performed her daily ritual at the table. She shook her head, smiled and went back to her essay.  
  
"Are you going into Hogsmeade this Saturday?" Ginny asked, crossing out a mistake and rewriting it correctly.  
  
"We plan on it," she said. "Why don't you come with us?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Good. We all need a little break, I think."  
  
By 'we', Ginny knew Hermione actually meant Harry. Nobody had been through as much in a lifetime as Harry Potter had been through in his short sixteen years of existence. Indeed, Harry had had to take care of himself his whole life and growing up fast had been a necessity.  
  
The darkest wizard in history had taken away from Harry his childhood and family. Though Ginny had never met the Dursleys, she had heard plenty from her brothers about them and didn't consider them Harry's family at all. He'd grown up alone among people that would never understand him.  
  
Yet Ginny would never voice her thoughts on this subject to anyone, except Hermione. Harry certainly didn't like to be pitied and she didn't pity him. Harry didn't realize just how strong he was and even though she believed she had no right to think such things about him, a swell of pride in him very nearly lifted her off her seat, and it wasn't just because she still had feelings for him. No, she didn't! Of course not.  
  
Considering the hideous crush that had been part of her problems during her first year, it was amazing things had turned out as they did. It was embarrassing that she'd let herself behave so childishly, considering she'd never been afraid of anything until that summer she'd run out of the kitchen in sheer terror once Harry had arrived at the Burrow.  
  
He was her hero; her knight in shining armor. She'd fantasized about him all summer and then he was right there in her kitchen! The green-eyed wonder that had plagued her dreams all summer long was having breakfast with her family and she couldn't even function, let alone eat food in front of him. What if she made a mess? What if someone asked her a question and food came dribbling out of her mouth? Worse yet, what if The Boy Who Lived saw the whole thing? That wouldn't do at all! So what did she do? She'd put her elbow in the butter dish all because he asked her if she was starting Hogwarts. He'd actually talked to her! She, Ginny Weasley, youngest of all the nine, flaming heads, had actually had his brilliantly green eyes focused on her.  
  
Ginny briefly covered her eyes with her hands as she remembered these embarrassing details of her first real encounters with Harry Potter. He'd seen her snap her door shut as he and Ron came up the stairs. What he must have thought, she didn't know and thankfully, he'd never said one thing. He'd never embarrassed her once. No, she'd done a pretty good job of it herself. Except the singing valentine was most definitely not her fault! She had her so-called twin brothers to thank for that.  
  
His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad... Honestly! As if she'd ever write something so stupid as that. No...his eyes are more like a grassy field when spring has begun and everything is growing again...or the deepest, purest emeralds ever seen.  
  
Ginny shook herself abruptly from the unhealthy direction her thoughts were slipping in, earning a curious glance from Hermione that she didn't notice.  
  
On days like these, she could scream out of sheer frustration at the idiocy of it all. But that didn't mean things couldn't change. Her fourth year was the first time she'd felt in control in years.  
  
The summer following the Third Task in the Triwizard Tournament had proved to be the gloomiest. The death of Cedric Diggory had thrown the calm, though sometimes chaotic Burrow atmosphere—due mostly to Fred and George—into a tailspin and not because one of their experiments had gone wrong. Mum had been distraught more than she let on. She was beginning to worry for all her family and Harry too, holed up at the Dursley's.  
  
While she constantly dwelled on her feelings for Harry, Voldemort had returned stronger than before. Her own brother, Percy, had turned on them and moved out. The Death Eaters had escaped Azkaban, resuming their reign of terrorizing and killing. Umbridge had taken over Hogwarts. Dumbledore had been forced into hiding. And...Sirius was gone.  
  
Learning about Sirius had given Harry something he never had—a parent figure to look out for him and to confide in. Just knowing Harry had found someone who had been his father's best friend warmed Ginny's heart. She was just sorry she never had the chance to get to know him better. She'd really liked him and missed that bark of laughter uniquely belonging to the Animagus.  
  
Ginny bit back a wistful smile as she thought about Sirius. He'd definitely been a surprise. Blind panic stood out in her memory the most when she first saw him in person and then the world came crashing to a halt as so many people began explaining everything at once. He was innocent. He was Harry's godfather. He was an Animagus. He was part of The Order of the Phoenix.  
  
After it all sunk in, Ginny was left drained, but thrilled. He'd explained what happened the night Harry's parents had died, the night that had changed the wizarding world forever. She still shivered at the haunted look in his soft grey eyes as he remembered the past. He spoke with fervor and a love for James and Lily that had naturally passed onto Harry. It was then that Ginny truly took a step back from herself and realized what was at stake. There was so much more happening. There was so much more to concern herself with than a silly crush.  
  
She'd gone out of her way to push her awkwardness down and looking back on her fourth year, she knew she'd made it. Her crush on Harry was over. He didn't feel the same and she knew now, that he never would. She no longer gawked at him like a lovesick puppy. So much had been going on last year that she had sometimes forgotten about Harry, which was a giant step forward for the youngest Weasley. More than once over the last year, she'd even come close to punching Harry for his stupidity. Four years ago that kind of thought would have sent her headfirst into dire mortification.  
  
Ginny had even had her first boyfriend. Michael Corner was nice enough, but something of an idiot, especially since he broke up with her just because Ravenclaw had lost the Quidditch Cup, though she'd never tell Ron that she thought so, considering Ron had hated Michael since he first met him and would only say 'I told you so'.  
  
As she finished writing the fourth use of the werewolf claw, images from the Department of Mysteries interrupted her writing. She'd definitely seen another side of Harry that night. It was one she'd always known existed, but had never actually seen. True, they had been separated for the most part and then some Death Eater had knocked her out cold with a curse. She still cringed at the thought. But that side of Harry harbored a hatred that Ginny had to admit, was a bit frightening. His eyes were no longer green, but black with a fury that left her shivering.  
  
"You're awfully quiet this morning," observed Hermione, eying her closely, her piercing gaze making Ginny uneasy.  
  
"Just thinking," said Ginny vaguely, rolling up the parchment and putting her quill and ink bottle back into her bag. She could finish her Potions essay in History of Magic later that afternoon. It's not like it would make a bit of difference to Professor Binns. After downing the last of her pumpkin juice, she stood up to leave for her first class.  
  
"What about?" Hermione asked with concern. "Is everything okay?"  
  
Just as Ginny was about to answer, jet-black hair came into view accompanied by a flaming orange head. Harry and Ron had entered the Great Hall and were fast approaching the Gryffindor table. Hermione's gaze followed Ginny's and she grinned.  
  
"Yes, Hermione, everything's okay. I never thought it would be, but it is," she said confidently while ignoring the little flip of her heart as Harry laughed at something Ron said. Maybe she wasn't completely over...? Yes, she was!  
  
"Both dense, aren't they?" whispered Hermione. "Can't see what's right in front of them."  
  
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked casually.  
  
"I don't have to spell it out, especially for you."  
  
"Please, Hermione! That's been over since last summer!"  
  
"Of course it has," she said briskly, stealing furtive glances at the boys as they approached and looking back at Ginny.  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Think what you like, but it's not the same as it used to be." She grabbed her bag and left before her brother and his best friend made it to the table.  
  
It was only after she exited the Great Hall that Ginny realized what she had done. In leaving the table, she had walked all the way to the other side of the Gryffindor table to avoid saying anything to Harry or Ron. Ginny hadn't avoided Harry since her third year and now, having been thinking about him all morning, the old insecurities had come back and she had slipped into old habits.  
  
Angry with herself, she was tempted to go back in the Great Hall and go up the other side of the table, but that would certainly look weird. Instead, she stormed down the halls to her first class, feeling like the biggest fool in the whole school.  
  
Hermione watched her friend leave as she took the long way around, avoiding Harry and Ron entirely. To her surprise, Harry discreetly cast a look of disappointment at Ginny as she hurried off. Ron was still jabbering about something and didn't notice that his conversation was now one-sided.  
  
Harry, frowning faintly, gave no greeting and dropped down across from her and Ron next to her. Her eyebrows shot up at the unexpected change in seating, but she chose not to say anything.  
  
"Morning," Ron said, wearing a lopsided smile, shoulder brushing hers as he sat down.  
  
"Good morning, Ron," she said sweetly, absently stroking her quill.  
  
Harry, looking very preoccupied, reached for his goblet, grasped only air and continued to grasp only air as he stared at the doors of the Great Hall.  
  
"Harry?" said Ron, giving his best friend a strange look. "You imagining the Snitch is there or something?"  
  
"Huh?" Harry said, looking at Ron confusedly.  
  
"Little bit to your left, mate."  
  
"Oh," he managed, at last grasping onto the goblet, but he didn't take a drink. He just held it.  
  
"Is everything all right, Harry?" asked Hermione gently, hiding a smile.  
  
"Yeah, fine," he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair distractedly.  
  
"Harry, are you sure? I mean, you're not having dreams or anything again...are you?" Ron asked cautiously.  
  
"No, it's nothing," he said impatiently, spooning large heaps of eggs onto his plate and then tossing the spoon irritably back into the bowl.  
  
"Fine. Whatever," Ron acquiesced in an equally annoyed tone.  
  
Hermione thoughtfully stared at Harry. Being moody and snappish was perfectly normal behavior for him these days. Thankfully, he didn't yell at them all the time like last year, but he did have his moments when everything seemed to set him off or he'd just stew in a corner, his face a mask of quiet fury.  
  
If he were worrying about the war and what was going on with Voldemort, he wore a mask, clouding the face Hermione knew so well. He would withdraw into himself and brood endlessly. Yet this morning was...different. He was clearly distracted, much more than normal. In fact, as Hermione recalled, she'd seen this distraction on more than one occasion over the past few weeks. Further still, she'd caught him staring into space, completely oblivious to what was going on around him with a glazed look in his eyes.  
  
Her gaze slid towards the Great Hall doors, which Harry still threw sneaky glances at every minute or so. It couldn't be that he...? Hermione suddenly sat up straighter in her seat as she chewed her bacon. Come to think of it, during these glazed moments, Ginny had at one point been nearby, just left the room or just been talking to them. Could all of these clues really be pointing straight to Ginny?  
  
Flashes of a moment a few weeks ago came back to Hermione at a rapid pace...  
  
"So Ginny, are you ready?" Hermione heard Harry ask Ginny as they walked onto the Quidditch pitch.  
  
Hermione had come to see Ginny try out for the open Chaser position, considering Angelina and Alicia were gone now.  
  
"I think so. I just hope it's over with soon."  
  
"You've got nothing to worry about, Gin," he said with a smile. "You won us the Quidditch cup last year."  
  
Hermione's hearing was excellent and she knew she had heard right. Harry had just given Ginny a nickname, something he'd never done before. Interesting...  
  
"Thanks, Harry," she said, grinning nervously.  
  
Hermione considered it worth mentioning, but didn't want to make her friend anymore nervous than she already was.  
  
Harry tapped Ginny's broomstick handle with his by way of good luck, mounted and shot up into the sky.  
  
"Well, here I go," Ginny mumbled, expelling a large breath.  
  
"You'll be great, Ginny. Quidditch runs in the family."  
  
"So do a bunch of other things," she said sarcastically.  
  
"Oh, shut up. You'll be fine. I'm going to go find a front row seat and tonight, we'll celebrate with some chocolate frogs before we go to bed."  
  
Ginny smiled appreciatively. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Hermione."  
  
Even though she didn't know much about Quidditch, Hermione followed the tryouts pretty well, easily picking out the players who were better suited to the game than others. Ginny's talent was amazing. With aim like that, they were sure to win this year. Ron was doing splendidly, blocking many of Ginny's shots. They seemed to even each other out almost. She'd beat him and then he'd beat her. This went on back and forth for quite some time.  
  
Hermione let her eyes follow the other players and noticed the Beaters were having a bit of trouble with the Bludgers. There was a moment of confusion as both Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper went for the menacing ball, but then backed off to let the other take a whack at it. In their hesitation, they both missed and the Bludger shot after another Chaser in the middle of trying out. Luckily, he saw it in time and dodged it completely.  
  
Unfortunately, he landed right smack into Ginny, who hadn't seen any of what was going on. She careened into one of the goals and would have fallen, but for Ron's close presence. He caught her easily as she lurched to the side. Harry appeared out of nowhere and pulled up beside Ginny. His worried voice echoed down to the stands.  
  
"Ginny! Are you all right?"  
  
Ginny nodded, but she was apparently fighting a grimace as Harry gingerly lifted her arm.  
  
"I don't think it's broken," Harry said, "But we should go see Madame Pomfrey just in case."  
  
"But—"  
  
"No, Ginny," said Ron, shaking his head. "Harry's right. Besides, the tryouts are almost over and I don't think you have anything to worry about. Right, Harry?"  
  
"Not a bit," Harry said, looking up at Ron as he and Ginny slowly descended to the ground.  
  
"But—"Ginny tried again.  
  
"Hey!" cried Ron in mock indignation. "I'm the Captain of this team and it's an order!"  
  
Hermione jumped up from her seat and ran to catch them up as they headed for the castle.  
  
"Ginny! Are you—" She was about to ask.  
  
"Here! Hold these," Harry said, shoving his and Ginny's brooms in Hermione's face. She took them, fumbling to get a better grip on his Firebolt.  
  
Harry then took Ginny's injured arm and raised it a bit.  
  
"Harry? What are you doing?" Ginny asked, perplexed.  
  
"We should keep it elevated."  
  
"But we don't even know if it's broken!" she protested, wincing from obvious pain.  
  
"Well, it could be!" he argued as they mounted the steps to the doors.  
  
"I can elevate it by myself," she said stubbornly. "It doesn't even hurt that bad!"  
  
Harry snorted. "Yeah right and the fact that you're wincing in pain every two seconds means nothing."  
  
"I am not!"  
  
"Yes, you are, so just shut up and it'll all be over soon!"  
  
"Fine," she muttered in irritation.  
  
Hermione watched this little exchange with amusement. Since when did Harry get so concerned over his teammates' injuries? Harry was certainly far more concerned about this than he was this past summer before term started. Ron had run into a tree while they were playing Quidditch in the field behind the Burrow, sporting a bloody nose and black eye afterwards.  
  
After Madame Pomfrey had declared it was just a very bad bruise, she gave Ginny a potion for the pain, but not before congratulating Harry.  
  
"Good thinking, Mr. Potter. Elevation is the first step for an injury. You might want to consider quitting, Miss Weasley. Sports are not very ladylike!" she called after them as they left the hospital wing.  
  
"See?" he said pointedly to Ginny as they headed back into Gryffindor tower. "It was a good thing."  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes and took her broomstick back from Hermione. "Thank you, Harry," she said, though not really sounding like she meant it. Obviously, the youngest Weasley's temper had ignited. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
"Huh?" he asked blankly.  
  
The three of them were about to climb the steps to the dorms.  
  
"I'm going into the girls' dorms, Harry. Unless you're going to stand there while I change my clothes, perhaps you should get back to the tryouts."  
  
Harry colored bright red. "Erm...right. Sorry. Tryouts." With that, he turned on his heel and practically ran out of the portrait hole only to run back in two seconds later, grab his Firebolt from a grinning Hermione and then leave again...  
  
Hermione quirked an eyebrow at Harry, who had bacon in his hands and was tearing it apart piece by piece.  
  
"Way to eat your protein, Harry," she said, turning a page in her book.  
  
Harry scowled at her and shoved the last piece in his mouth.  
  
Ron nudged her and mouthed, "What's up with him?"  
  
Hermione shrugged. Ron glanced at Harry edgily, but went back to his meal, grabbing second helpings along the way.  
  
At last Harry spoke up. "Hermione, is something bothering Ginny?"  
  
"Why would you think that, Harry?" she asked, eying him shrewdly.  
  
He squirmed a bit in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Er...she's just seemed quiet lately is all."  
  
"O.W.L.s. My guess is that she's stressing. She's been having a bit of trouble with Transfiguration."  
  
"Hmm," he grunted in response, looking thoughtful again.  
  
Harry had taken to including Ginny in whatever they did or bringing her name up when she wasn't there. Hermione came to one conclusion and decided to test her theory.  
  
"So, I suppose the both of you are ready for the Hogsmeade weekend this Saturday?" she asked, closing her Herbology book.  
  
"I'll say," Ron said heartily. "We could use a break. Right, Harry?"  
  
"Mm hmm," he mumbled.  
  
"We'll have a nice time, won't we?" She said and then added, "The three of us."  
  
Harry's head jerked up, eyes wide. "The three of us? Don't you...I mean, is no one else...?"  
  
"Oh, that's right," she said slowly, noting the wild look in his eyes. "Maybe I should invite Ginny to go along?" she wondered, though having already done so not fifteen minutes ago.  
  
"Uh...yeah, I suppose," he answered, going back to his scrambled eggs, cheeks assuming a crimson shade. "She'd like that, probably."  
  
"Yes, but, oh no!" she exclaimed softly. "I can't invite her today though, because I have a prefects meeting tonight and there won't be time to ask her since Ron has detention tonight and I'll have to take extra notes for his benefit. Harry, you do it."  
  
"What? Me? Why?"  
  
"I just said why, Harry. Would you please?" Before he could say anything else, "We should get to class," she informed the both of them.  
  
Only she and Ron stood up, however, and left Harry behind, who obviously hadn't heard.  
  
"Oi! Harry! Come on!"  
  
Startled, Harry grabbed his bag and ran to catch up. "Sorry," he said, assuming a brisk pace as they made their way to Herbology.  
  
"What is with you this morning?" Ron asked, annoyed.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron's daftness gave new meaning to the word insensitivity.  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" snapped Harry.  
  
"You've been weird this morning."  
  
"And?" he prompted impatiently.  
  
"So what's the problem?" Ron tried again.  
  
"Nothing!" Harry shouted exasperatedly, entering the greenhouse and slamming his bag down hard while taking his seat.  
  
Ron was about to open his mouth again, but Hermione whispered heatedly in his ear, "Drop it!"  
  
He took the end chair, forcing Hermione to sit in between them. She tutted at them both for behaving like childish idiots. Hermione sincerely hoped Harry would figure out his feelings for Ginny before he drove both Ron and her nuts.  
  
That night in the common room, the four of them were sitting at a table doing homework together. Harry and Ron spoke to each other occasionally, but their tones were clipped. Ginny glanced curiously back and forth between her brother and his best friend, who by now, were pointedly ignoring each other. Rolling her eyes and planning to ask Hermione later, she went back to the mountain of homework McGonagall had given them.  
  
The tension was almost too much for Ginny and she was about to storm up to her dorm to finish her homework there when Ron announced he had detention with Filch and probably wouldn't see them again until next week. She and Hermione gave him sympathetic looks as he left. Harry seemed to visibly relax once the portrait hole closed.  
  
"All right, Harry?" she couldn't help but ask.  
  
The scowl that had marred his forehead melted away when he looked up at her. "Yeah, fine. You?"  
  
Ginny's curiosity deepened to downright confusion as Hermione was apparently trying not to laugh. Her bushy head was bent so low over her homework that her hair was splayed across the table.  
  
"I'm okay. Just Transfiguration. I think I'm better suited to something else."  
  
He leaned over to glance at her parchment, green eyes quickly scanning its contents. The firelight bounced off his glasses, sending gold reflections across his smooth cheeks and he bunched up his nose to keep his glasses from sliding off. His hair waved at her from all directions and Ginny smiled. Harry was so cute.  
  
"I'm not very good at Transfiguration," he said suddenly, startling her so bad, she jumped, "But if you want some help...?" He didn't finish, leaving his offer hanging in the air. He looked up expectantly and was much too close for her liking.  
  
"Sure," she said, swallowing the butterflies that were about to pop out of her mouth. How did he do that to her?  
  
"Okay." He scooted his chair closer.  
  
Ginny was thankful for Hermione's presence, but immediately wished she could hex her friend when Hermione declared she was leaving for her prefects meeting. Now she would have to suffer alone with Harry. At one time, that was her dream, but now she wanted to be anywhere else because her emotions were battling with her will power. She thought she'd mastered her feelings for Harry, but for some reason, tonight was different.  
  
Ginny was not in a good mood. Since that morning in the Great Hall, she had been on the warpath with herself and had been receiving odd looks from everyone. She'd even received a detention for her lack of concentration in Potions.  
  
It turned out that the five uses of werewolf claws included, not only the cure for a bad rash, but also the removal of unwanted hair. Thus, one of her Slytherin classmates would no longer be known for her long, flowing blonde hair. The incident still brought a smirk to Ginny's face. Fred and George had somehow heard about it and sent her one of their infamous Skiving Snack Boxes that same night with all kinds of new products they had invented to test out on gullible victims. She had placed the Snack Box at the bottom of her trunk. It could certainly come in handy one day.  
  
The library was full of students from each house, mostly fifth years. O.W.L.s were coming and everyone was working three times as hard. Ginny had her Transfiguration problems to sort out, though Harry had been of tremendous help, despite his insistence that he wasn't very good at it. She still marveled at his offer to help. Maybe he'd just been in a good mood that day and was feeling benevolent.  
  
The scratching of quills was resonating in her head. Who ever said libraries were quiet? She ploughed on and just as she was putting the finishing touches on her essay, she glanced up and saw Harry walking into the library. Their eyes met and he gave her a very stiff wave and smile to match. Thinking that he probably had some studying of his own to do, she finished packing up her bag, slung it over her shoulder and turned to leave except that Harry was blocking her path.  
  
"Hi," she whispered.  
  
"Hi, Ginny," he whispered back. "Are you leaving?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Good. I'll walk back with you."  
  
Confused, Ginny followed him. "That was the fastest trip I ever saw anyone make to the library," she said, voice back to normal now that they had passed the library.  
  
"Oh, well I was looking for you actually," he said, nervously fidgeting with his tie. If he wasn't careful, he'd strangle himself.  
  
"Me?" she asked in surprise, wondering if maybe he wanted to talk Quidditch, which they often did together.  
  
"Erm, yeah. I was wondering...do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me? U-u- uh, me, Ron and Hermione, that is?"  
  
Her brow furrowed with confusion. Hermione had already invited her yesterday and had obviously not told Harry or Ron. That was weird, to say the least.  
  
"You don't have to if you're meeting up with someone else," he said hastily. "It's just that Hermione mentioned at breakfast yesterday that she hadn't had a chance to ask you and—"  
  
"She what?" asked Ginny in shock. "Why would she say that?"  
  
"Because she had a prefects meeting and wouldn't be able to ask you," he said warily, obviously startled by her less than quiet reaction.  
  
It was a reasonable enough answer, though not the one Ginny was looking for. Why would Hermione blatantly lie to Harry about having not invited her? Not unless she.... Oh, no! They'd just been talking about the boys' tendencies to be completely unobservant to whatever was under their noses.  
  
Harry obviously mistook her silence. "Guess that's a no, then," he mumbled quietly, starting to leave.  
  
"Harry, wait! I'm sorry," she apologized, rushing forward. "No, I'm not meeting anyone else and yes, I'd like to go with all of you."  
  
He smiled and took a deep breath as though relieved. "Right then. Let's head back to the common room, shall we and maybe have a game of chess?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"Sounds good," she said, though still distracted by this strange turn of events.  
  
Hermione wasn't known for lying, so why had she done it? Why had she told Harry to ask Ginny? And why wasn't she excited that she'd been given a personal invitation from Harry? Because, Harry had to be told to ask her and hadn't been able to come up with the idea himself.  
  
Once they made it back to the common room, Ginny was still musing over what had happened and lost the game miserably to cries of woe and threats of dismemberment from her chess pieces.  
  
"Another game?" he asked.  
  
It was nearly eleven. Harry didn't sleep much these days and Ginny was actually exhausted, but knew she wouldn't be able to sleep a wink if she declined and headed upstairs. Her thoughts were swirling around so much she hadn't been able to turn her mind off.  
  
"Sure, why not?"  
  
The chess pieces walked back to their squares, the white pieces muttering under their breath at Ginny for her lack of strategic ability.  
  
"Oh, shut up," she grumbled.  
  
Harry's eyebrows rose slightly. "Bad day?"  
  
"You could say that," she said, staring at the board, attempting to get her mind on the game. "I'm just glad that a new one will be starting soon."  
  
"Me too," he said with a sigh, pulling off his tie. He dropped it carelessly to the floor beside the chair along with his robes. "I've still got loads of homework, but I just don't seem to care at the moment."  
  
She smirked. "I know what you mean, but I have to finish mine or suffer the wrath of mum if I don't get more O.W.L.s than Fred and George."  
  
He grimaced. "That wouldn't be fun."  
  
"Not at all. She's already annoyed that I wasn't made prefect, but she's got Ron for that," Ginny said unconcernedly. "Speaking of which, what was up with you and my brother yesterday?"  
  
Harry frowned, as though thinking. "Yesterday?"  
  
"Yeah, last night, when we were doing homework. You looked ready to hex each other into oblivion."  
  
Harry ducked his head suddenly, looking intently at the chessboard. The pieces, apparently bored, had taken a seat on the checkerboard or were impatiently tapping their feet.  
  
"I don't know," he said evasively. "It was just one of those trivial things, you know? I don't even remember what it was about."  
  
He most certainly did, she thought suspiciously. "Come on, Harry. I'm not dumb. Something was clearly going on. Did you have a row?"  
  
He shrugged and opened his mouth, but snapped it shut. His eyes darted back and forth as though he were forming the answer in his head.  
  
"Really, Gin, it was nothing. Ron and I just both woke up moody. I guess we just let it really get to us."  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. Don't tell me."  
  
"What? I just told you—"  
  
She waved his answer away. "Never mind. I probably don't even want to know."  
  
"Hello, up there! Yes, you! You daft prats! Are we playing or not?" yelled the white king. "Because if we're not—"  
  
"Shut up," Ginny said again. "We're playing."  
  
She moved her pawn irritably, pushing him too hard, instead of calling out his square and he brandished a fist at her. "Mind those hands, missy! I can walk by myself!"  
  
Harry struggled not to laugh. "Manhandler," he accused good-naturedly.  
  
Despite her irritation at Harry's brushing off her question, she laughed. Maybe it was just what he had said. Nothing. Just her brother and her friend being typical boys. Sitting there with Harry by the fire in the middle of a cutthroat game, due to the irate chess pieces, caused her tension to wane and she won the game.  
  
"Why did you lie to him?" Ginny asked Hermione.  
  
She'd gone into the sixth year dorms and confronted her friend. Hermione was busy getting ready for bed, having just returned from a prefects meeting that had run late. She pulled back her covers and plopped down, giving Ginny a somewhat guilty look.  
  
"I was watching Harry after you left the Great Hall. His eyes didn't leave you until you were gone. I think he was a bit disappointed."  
  
"Disappointed about what?"  
  
"You leaving."  
  
Ginny laughed. "Yeah, right."  
  
"You weren't watching him, Ginny."  
  
Ginny ignored the sudden flare of hope Hermione's words had ignited. "So why did you lie?" she asked again.  
  
"I was testing a theory and since he asked you, I'd say I proved my theory."  
  
"Okay, but do you think he ever would have asked me had you not prodded him into doing it?"  
  
Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it. Ginny lowered her eyes and sank down onto the edge of the bed.  
  
"I thought so."  
  
"Ginny, you know how Harry is. He has a hard time around girls. Look at what happened with Cho. Nothing!"  
  
"So?"  
  
"So, boys need a bit of prodding sometimes!"  
  
"I know," she grumbled. "It's just depressing, is all."  
  
"Ginny," Hermione said, grinning. "Harry asked you, didn't he? Seems to me he likes the idea of you being there."  
  
Ginny gave Hermione a disbelieving look. "It's ludicrous, that's what."  
  
"Since when? Harry's a boy. You're a girl. It's natural," she said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," she said sarcastically.  
  
"Well," began Hermione smartly. "Harry will just have to prove you wrong."  
  
The next morning, Ginny crawled out of bed only after Hermione's incessant prodding with her wand. She sleepwalked into the shower, whacked her head on the faucet and once finished, had to turn the water back on because she'd forgotten to use any soap.  
  
"Are you ready?" came Hermione's voice.  
  
"Almost," answered Ginny unenthusiastically, placing a drying charm on her hair.  
  
"Want to talk about it?" asked her friend.  
  
She and Hermione were meeting Harry and Ron in about an hour so the two of them had time to talk before they got to Hogsmeade because the boys were headed to Zonko's first. Ginny hesitated because she had told all of this to Hermione a dozen times before, but talking to Hermione always helped. She had a way of putting things into perspective with her practical views.  
  
"I'm just frustrated with myself, is all," she said with a tired sigh.  
  
"I thought you were doing okay. I mean, you've not said much about him in a while."  
  
"No, but I've been thinking about him more lately and when that happens, I start slipping back into old habits. The other morning, I deliberately took the long way so I didn't have to pass him in the Great Hall. I haven't done that in years! Then I get mad at him for making me feel this way and it's not even his fault. It's my fault for being such a silly girl."  
  
"Don't say that, Ginny because it's not true," Hermione scolded. "It's natural that something like this would happen. It hasn't been very long since you moved on."  
  
"But this happened so suddenly that I wonder if I'll ever get past it," she mused.  
  
Hermione didn't answer because they'd reached the popular Hogsmeade pub. It was full of Hogwarts students. Harry and Ron hadn't arrived yet. They were probably still in Zonko's buying ridiculous toys, as Hermione called them. After squeezing through the maze of students, they got a handful of butterbeers, found an empty table near the back and sat down to wait for the boys.  
  
"So what do you think, Hermione?"  
  
Hermione pursed her lips, as though wanting to say something, but wasn't sure if she should. "Well...Ginny, I really shouldn't get in the middle of this."  
  
Ginny almost choked on her butterbeer. "Hermione, there's nothing to get in the middle of!" she protested. "I want to know how to get over this! I want to stop thinking about him all day long! I want to stop being this pathetic!"  
  
"Honestly! You are not pathetic." She sighed impatiently. "Look, constant negativity isn't helping you any. If getting over Harry is something you really want to happen, then I think you've done a tremendous job so far."  
  
"I guess so," she agreed reluctantly.  
  
"Ginny, do you want to completely forget you ever had feelings for Harry?" Hermione asked seriously.  
  
Ginny couldn't answer right away. Last summer everything seemed so clear, but lately Harry had seemed more aware, perhaps?  
  
"I don't know," she said finally. "I thought I did, but Harry has been acting strangely. We talk more. Well, we've talked a lot this year, but it seems like it has been more than small talk, and...Oh, I don't know, Hermione."  
  
"Let me ask you this: do you still have feelings for him?"  
  
Again, Ginny said nothing at first. She was always finding new things to love about Harry and would then be reminded of all the old things she loved about Harry. Throwing around the word 'love' was not something Ginny was keen to do, but there was no other description for how she felt so she just pointedly ignored the four-lettered word as it drifted across her mind.  
  
Ever since first year, her feelings had grown steadily and trying to get rid of them only made her more miserable. If she yearned for Harry, she was unhappy because she would never have him. If she tried to forget about Harry, she was unhappy because thinking about him was the only thing that helped her get through the day sometimes. He was both good and bad for her and this really didn't make much sense.  
  
"Don't answer that, Ginny," Hermione said suddenly. Maybe you don't need to know right now. Maybe you just need to wait. Don't sell yourself short. You're a strong, independent, fifteen year old woman. You'd have to be, considering the level of testosterone in the Burrow."  
  
Ginny giggled. "It has been a long fifteen year struggle."  
  
"That's right and I think you've come out on top. You've shown what you're made of."  
  
She took another drink and set her bottle down with a bang. "That's right. I'm not a pining little girl anymore."  
  
Hermione held her butterbeer up. "To Ginny and her independence. May she be an inspiration to women everywhere."  
  
"I'll drink to that."  
  
They clinked bottles and downed their butterbeer.  
  
"Oi! What's all this?"  
  
"What's all what?" Ginny said testily after swallowing.  
  
"All this bottle clinking. What're you celebrating?"  
  
"Independence," she answered proudly.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes and budged Ginny over as he sat down, forcing her to move her chair to the left and closer to Harry. She glared at him and he ignored her, which was the usual routine.  
  
Madame Rosmerta came over with more butterbeer for all of them and Harry and Ron launched into a twenty-minute conversation about Quidditch. Ginny happily joined in at first, but soon saw that Hermione was bored to tears.  
  
"Why don't we talk about something else?" she said, interrupting Ron.  
  
His mouth dropped open. "Have you gone mad, Ginny?"  
  
"No, I have not," she said tartly.  
  
"You're on the team, how can you not want to talk about it?" he cried aghast.  
  
"Honestly, Ron, it's not like she said she hated Quidditch," Hermione put in.  
  
"What kind of a sister are you, eh?" Ron said, shaking his head.  
  
"The best you'll ever have," Ginny snapped. "Anyway, Hermione gets bored when all we talk about is Quidditch. Shouldn't we talk about something that includes her too?"  
  
"It's okay, Ginny. I don't mind," Hermione protested.  
  
Even though Hermione was apparently willing to listen to them chatter on endlessly about the wizard sport, she still gave Ginny a grateful smile.  
  
"Blimey, Harry! I've just noticed something!" Ron exclaimed in wonder.  
  
"What's that?" He asked curiously, arching one eyebrow adorably.  
  
Stop that! Ginny severely scolded herself.  
  
"When we talk about Quidditch, it's oddly...quiet," Ron continued, his eyes sliding toward Hermione.  
  
"Sod off, Ron," Hermione said calmly.  
  
It was a well known fact that Hermione talked more than the average wizard and witch. Occasionally, Hermione surprised them all, as she had just done. Harry was fighting a laugh so unsuccessfully that Ginny just about snorted with the giggles. Ron stared stupidly at the girl he hadn't yet admitted to fancying.  
  
"Prat," Ginny said, lightly kicking his shin.  
  
Just then, a dark cloud entered The Three Broomsticks in the shape of a monkey and his two gorillas. Malfoy had been strangely subdued since his father had been thrown in Azkaban at the beginning of summer. Very mysteriously, or crookedly rather, Lucius Malfoy had been released one month later. Appeals had been presented to the Ministry of Magic to keep him in the infamous wizarding prison, but every one of them had been revoked. Corruption was running amok in their government.  
  
Like the rest of them, Ginny had expected Malfoy to boast about his father having gotten out, but he hadn't even picked a fight. He merely gave Harry and her family rude sneers then went on his way. Ginny had the uneasy feeling that Malfoy was waiting for something and whatever it was it was most decidedly bad.  
  
"Ginny, has Lisa talked to you in a while?" Ron suddenly asked, watching Malfoy over his shoulder as he, Crabbe and Goyle took seats at the bar.  
  
"No," she said mildly interested. "Not since Harry told everyone that Volde-"  
  
"Watch your mouth!" Ron said sharply.  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes and went on. "Voldemort returned."  
  
"So she all but called me a liar?" Harry asked in a clipped tone.  
  
"Well...yes," she admitted reluctantly as an angry scowl popped out on Harry's face. "Dumbledore too. She stopped sitting by me and studying with me...everything stopped."  
  
"What about now?" Harry asked. "Since Fudge finally found backbone enough to admit Voldemort's back—" Ron grimaced—"It seems like everyone would believe him."  
  
"No, she still won't speak to me," Ginny said.  
  
"Perhaps she's embarrassed," suggested Hermione.  
  
"She should be," said Ron bitterly. "After calling us all liars, Harry especially."  
  
"At least I'm finding out who my real friends are." Ginny shrugged. "That's okay. I didn't really like her that much anyway. She hums nonstop."  
  
"What's so bad about that?" asked Hermione. "If she has a good voice—"  
  
"She doesn't hum tunes. She hums one long, single note."  
  
"Bet she and Luna Lovegood get along really well," said Ron. "Ow! What in the bloody hell was that for?" He leaned over to rub his kicked shin.  
  
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "Luna is my friend and just because she's got different interests—"  
  
"Crumple Horned Snorkacks?" Ron suggested blandly. "Heliopaths?"  
  
"Doesn't mean she's crazy or something!"  
  
"Yeah, well...better now than later," he said. "You know...when it matters."  
  
"Is she the only one of your friends?" Harry asked quietly.  
  
"Nope, I've lost at least three—not all Gryffindors."  
  
"Ravenclaw? Not Luna," he added quickly as Ron was about to speak up. "Matthew and Gwen?"  
  
"Yes," she said, surprised that he had known the names of her friends.  
  
"They're both Muggle born, so they don't really know much about Dumbledore or what happened a few summer's ago. They're listening to everyone else. Even Mum's tried talking to their mums, but apparently, they think since I know you, they've got something to worry about."  
  
Ron gave Ginny a dirty look for saying all that, since it was something Harry never ceased to worry about, but she ignored him. Harry rolled his eyes and mussed his already mussed hair. The scar appeared for a brief second and Ginny's eyes flicked to it and then back to her butterbeer with a frown.  
  
"People are stupid," she muttered.  
  
Hermione patted her arm. "You've still got us."  
  
She nudged Hermione's foot with hers, as if to say, "You've got to be kidding!" Of course, Hermione was her very good friend, but Ron had practically ignored her since the day she had become a first year. Harry...she almost laughed. Harry was still a mystery.  
  
"Yeah, Ginny. We're better than any cowards from Ravenclaw," said Ron fiercely.  
  
"Thanks," she said, chugging her butterbeer.  
  
"Easy on that!" he said sharply.  
  
"She's had only the one, Ron!" snapped Hermione. "Now hurry and finish yours! We have one more place to go."  
  
"What?" he asked blankly.  
  
"Honestly, Ronald! We talked about the new book you need for Potions a week ago!"  
  
"We did?"  
  
"You're a prefect. You need a new book. What kind of example does it set when a prefect doesn't have the necessary books?"  
  
"I don't know," he grinned. "But I bet you do. Are you going to tell me?"  
  
Hermione fought to not return the smile. "No, because you should already know since we talked about this last week."  
  
"Remind me," he said quickly.  
  
Ginny grimaced. Witnessing her brothers flirting with the objects of their affections was not something she liked to be part of, especially having gone through it with the previous five.  
  
Hermione slid off her chair. "I'll remind you on the way to Dervish and Banges."  
  
"Okay," he said, standing up. "See you two later."  
  
Ginny had a sneaking suspicion why Hermione had left and taken Ron with her. She could have hugged Hermione and pulled her hair out at the same time. Now she was alone with Harry. It wasn't that she felt shy around Harry, that had disappeared last summer, but they still hadn't talked all that much, except for the usual: Quidditch. The safe topic that left neither one feeling uncomfortable. Strangely, as much as Ginny loved Quidditch, she grew tired of it being the only thing she could talk about with Harry.  
  
"It gets exhausting doesn't it? Those two, I mean," Harry said, jerking his head in the direction Ron and Hermione had gone.  
  
"Yeah. Ron is the dolt of the family," she said matter-of-factly.  
  
Harry laughed. "If he doesn't do something soon, Hermione may kill him."  
  
"No! That would mean Nearly Headless Nick would spend his afterlife haunting us for Hermione killing him. We don't need a headache like that!"  
  
Harry and Ginny laughed so hard people were beginning to give them funny looks.  
  
"Everyone is staring," she commented with a roll of her eyes.  
  
Harry shrugged carelessly. "It's not like I've never been stared at before." He looked around and the faces turned away immediately, going back to their own conversations.  
  
Ginny couldn't help but be impressed. With a single look, he'd managed to stop the stares.  
  
"You'd think they'd have better things to do than stare at me all the time," he said tiredly.  
  
"Well, at least they stopped when you glared at them."  
  
He frowned. "I didn't glare, did I?"  
  
"Looked like one to me."  
  
"Oh. How could you tell?"  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "You forget that I'm looking straight at you, Harry."  
  
"Oh...right."  
  
"I know all of your expressions better than you do," she blurted.  
  
"What?" he asked in surprise.  
  
She stopped mid-swallow, cheeks puffed a bit with butterbeer. She hadn't really intended to say that, but now that she had and now that he was waiting for an answer she couldn't back down. Swallowing the rest of her butterbeer, she fixed a careless expression on her face and said as calmly as possible:  
  
"First year. Mine, that is."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I did nothing but stare at you," she said smoothly.  
  
His cheeks colored a bit and he looked down at his hands. "Right," he said gruffly.  
  
Feeling emboldened at his show of embarrassment, she plunged on. "You'd be amazed about all the little things I do know," she said slyly.  
  
Harry started. "What do you—?"  
  
Ginny laughed. "You should see your face!"  
  
His mouth twitched. "Yeah? What's wrong with it?"  
  
"It was between surprise and downright terror!"  
  
"It was not!"  
  
"Yes, it was, Harry!" She laughed so hard her tall chair wobbled and she gripped the table to keep from falling off.  
  
"Careful!" he cried, latching onto her wrist. "The last thing we need is our star Chaser breaking something vital before our first game against Ravenclaw."  
  
"Star Chaser?" Ginny repeated, looking all around them. "I don't see Katie Bell anywhere."  
  
"Hey!" he said, tugging on her wrist that he hadn't let go of. "You know I meant you!"  
  
"Oh, sure," she said sarcastically.  
  
"I've you seen fly and you won the Quidditch Cup last year. You're really great, so shut up okay?"  
  
The tiniest corner of her heart flipped at his praise, but she ignored it. "Okay," she said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Good," he said firmly. He let go of her wrist at last. His fingers slid along the top of her hand briefly. They both jumped as a tiny jolt shot from his hand into hers. He snapped his arm back.  
  
"S-sorry," he mumbled.  
  
"Huh?" she asked, absently rubbing her hand.  
  
"I shocked you. I'm sorry."  
  
"Oh. That's okay."  
  
Well, there went the comfortable conversation. Each took another drink of butterbeer. Harry played with Ron's empty bottle, rolling it back and forth between his hands.  
  
"So..." he ventured awkwardly. "I, er, heard about what happened."  
  
"What are you talking about?" she asked, red brows snapping together in confusion.  
  
"The bald Slytherin girl," Harry supplied with a smirk.  
  
"Oh!" She laughed. "What can I say? She had too much hair anyway."  
  
"You've made Fred and George proud, no doubt."  
  
"Even though it was unintentional."  
  
"But still, you're carrying on a Weasley tradition."  
  
"It's a hard job, but somebody's got to do it," she said, making a pained face, as though exhausted by the effort of the "accident".  
  
"Was it really unintentional?" he asked doubtfully.  
  
"Yes," she insisted. "No, really. It was an accident," she protested when Harry raised his eyebrows at her.  
  
"Whatever you say."  
  
"I wasn't paying attention," she explained. "The Slytherins still think it was deliberate though. A third year tried to curse me in the corridor after class."  
  
"Who was it?" he questioned quickly.  
  
"Uh...Malcolm Baddock, I think. Has a lemony face."  
  
Harry nodded. "I've seen him. He's good at slashing curses."  
  
"I know," she grimaced, glancing at her left forearm. "His curse hit me. Not full blast though."  
  
"He what?!" Harry shouted indignantly. "Where?" His eyes roamed over her as if looking for the injury.  
  
Somewhat surprised by his anger at the Slytherin and his concern for her injury, she failed to answer.  
  
"Well?" he prompted impatiently, looking as though he was about to search for her injury himself.  
  
She fumbled with her sleeve, pushed it back and showed him the thin and fading pink scar. He picked up her arm and lightly ran his thumb over her skin. Ginny shivered.  
  
"Sorry. Did I hurt—?"  
  
"No, no," she assured him. "Madame Pomfrey fixed it up straight away. It wasn't even that deep. Besides, McGonagall saw the whole thing."  
  
"She did?"  
  
Ginny nodded. "She said she'd come to see Snape about something. They lost fifty points and Malcolm got a week's detention."  
  
"He should've gotten a hard kick up the arse," Harry said fiercely. "Forget magic."  
  
Ginny rolled her sleeve back down while shrugging. "If not Malcolm, then it'll be another Slytherin for another reason on another day."  
  
"Just the same, Ginny. Be careful."  
  
"I will," she promised quietly, highly surprised by Harry's indignation on her behalf. Not that she minded of course. "Erm...it's nearly time to get back, I think," she said distractedly.  
  
"Yeah, we should," he said, sliding off his chair. "Ron and Hermione ought to be back any minute."  
  
It happened suddenly. Madame Rosmerta was levitating a full tray of butterbeer towards a table of students. Malcolm, the Slytherin who'd tried to ambush her in the corridor, jumped up from his table and whipped out his wand. The curse hit Madame Rosmerta's feet. She tripped and her hand hit the tray. Hagrid, who was sitting at a table right by her, caught her easily before she fell, but the drinks flew straight into the air above Ginny's head.  
  
Harry shoved Ginny to the side. The amber liquid doused him from head to foot as he knocked the bottles out of the way with his wand, to keep from being hit in the head by all the glass. A stream of orange shot out of Harry's wand and hit Malcolm ("Furnunculus!") directly in the face. A large, oozing boil sprouted from his nose. Malcolm ran out of the pub holding his nose and screaming like a banshee. The other Slytherins ran after him and just in time, as curses flew at them from all around the tables. No one cursed Madame Rosmerta.  
  
"All right there, Rosmerta?" Hagrid asked with concern, setting her on her feet.  
  
"Yes," she said, gasping heavily and patting her hair. "Thank you, Hagrid." She placed hands on her hips and glared at the mess. "Those boys!" She whipped out her wand and the spilled butterbeer disappeared. The empty bottles shot into the dustbins.  
  
Harry stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide with shock, gripping his wand so hard his knuckles had gone white. Butterbeer dripped from his hair onto his face and streaked his glasses. Ginny covered her mouth to keep from laughing. He was completely soaked. He shook suddenly, spraying droplets everywhere, ignoring the cries of protest from all around. Ginny couldn't stand it anymore and doubled over with laughter.  
  
"Funny, is it?" he scowled, but his eyes were alight with laughter.  
  
She held her hand over her mouth and nodded, face red with hysterics. He took off his glasses and wiped a hand over his face. Ginny took a deep breath as her laughter finally died down.  
  
"My hero! You saved me from being sticky."  
  
"Hero, indeed. Yeah, real funny, Gin. Let's see how you like it."  
  
He threw his arms around her and wiped his hands all in her hair.  
  
"Ew! Harry!" she squealed, trying to duck away from him.  
  
He let go and cast a drying charm over them both, but no drying charm would remove the sticky.  
  
"Thanks a heap. Now I'm sticky too," she grumbled, rubbing her hands together vigorously. Her skin was sticking together. "Yuck!"  
  
"Hey, I got most of the sticky, here. No complaining."  
  
"Some hero!" she laughed, pushing the door open and stepping out into the cool November breeze.  
  
"Oi!"  
  
Ginny and Harry turned to see Ron and Hermione heading their way, each carrying a book. Their eyes widened at the sight of them.  
  
"What happened to you two?"  
  
"Harry saved me from the attacking butterbeers," Ginny explained mildly.  
  
"Huh?" Ron frowned, obviously lost.  
  
"Slytherins again."  
  
"Oh." He glanced at Harry again and grimaced. "Look's sticky, mate."  
  
"How could you tell that, Ron?" he snapped, leading the way back to Hogwarts.  
  
Hermione pulled Ginny aside, allowing the boys to get a little ways ahead of them.  
  
"Saved you from butterbeer, eh?"  
  
"Trust me, Hermione, it's not as romantic as it sounds. He'd probably have done the same if Colin had been standing in my place."  
  
"While I agree that Harry's nobility far surpasses most boys, I really don't think so."  
  
Ginny shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."  
  
"I'm thinking it's maybe," Hermione stated. "You didn't see all the surreptitious glances he kept throwing your way before Ron and I left."  
  
Ginny frowned. "No, it couldn't be."  
  
"Miss Weasley, butterbeer is only the first step. Who knows what'll be next?"  
  
Ginny snorted. "Dungbombs?"  
  
"Well," Hermione said sensibly. "Every relationship has to begin somewhere. Just be glad it wasn't Dungbombs today.  
  
"Surreptitious glances?" Ginny said suddenly. "What are you on about, Hermione?"  
  
"Just that Harry must be moving past his tendency to be dense."  
  
Ginny suddenly burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all. "Ah, my hero!" she said dreamily.  
  
The words hero and Harry had always gone together in Ginny's mind. They still did, but for different reasons now. The summer before her first year started, she'd heard so many stories once it was announced that Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts. She'd dream about him daily, her knight in shining armor. She'd even drawn a picture of Harry in a suit of armor during her first year and had charmed the picture to move. For some reason, owing to lack of experience on her part no doubt, the visor kept falling shut over his face and the suit was much bigger than he was and every step he took resulted in a very big crash. A definite match for Sir Cadogan, he was, in that picture.  
  
She still had the picture buried away in a deep dark corner of her room back at the Burrow. She'd not been able to part with it. Though the suit was too big for him, he somehow filled it perfectly.  
  
Harry was still her hero. Not because he'd defeated the Dark Lord when he was a baby and not because he'd saved her life in the Chamber of secrets, but because he was her friend and because he gave so much of himself and never expected a thanks. Because of his smile. Because of his temper, which was really quite cute. Because of his anger on her behalf at the Slytherin who had hurt her. Because of so many things that were uniquely all his own.  
  
Hermione quickly joined her laughter and the two girls hurried to catch up to the boys, struggling to keep upright as they were laughing so hard. Harry and Ron eyed them warily, as the girls exchanged looks and erupted into laughing fits again.  
  
"Nutters, girls. All of them," Ron said, giving his new Potions book a look of disgust.  
  
Harry shrugged. "They're not so bad really, those two anyway."  
  
Ginny grinned, having heard the exchange and looked over her shoulder at Harry. He was looking at her. He grinned back. Suddenly, being sticky seemed a small price to pay for that grin.  
  
Fin.  
  
Author's Notes: I don't actually know if there are 5 uses of werewolf claws. I just made it up. 


End file.
